


The New Birds of Prey

by alexserthes



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic)
Genre: Gen, batgirls, idk - Freeform, look I just love the batgirls k, there might be smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-25 18:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10769829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexserthes/pseuds/alexserthes
Summary: Bruce has realized that he has his hands full with the Batboys, and so he hands training of Stephanie Brown, Harper Row, and Cassie Cain over to Barbara Gordon. Unlike Batman, Babs isn't a go-it-alone masochistic nerd, so she enlists the help of the old members of the Birds of Prey. Chaos may ensue, idk.





	1. Fledglings

**Author's Note:**

> Egh. First fan fic in forever. First one on AO3. Kill me with critiques.  
> Also I should probably note that I literally wrote this at 5am after downing a number of caffeine-laden sodas that would make even Tim cringe, while slightly high because I overdosed on painkillers, and also I'm working on hacking out a lung because of bronchitis. So. Yeah, whatever. Please kill me with critiques before my lung decides to leave this earthly plane without me.

Maybe it was just me, but honestly the cave is really the thing that sets Batman apart from the rest of the crazed furries of Gotham. I mean, it takes dedication to not only dress like a flying rodent (okay, technically not rodents but whatev's) but also spend a majority of your time living in a glorified basement just for kicks. Then again, gotta keep the aesthetic going, am I right?

Yeah, I'm right.

Anyway, mind on the mission. Bats is talking at us again, so I should probably cut the headchatter.  
\----

Stephanie refocused, her blue eyes locking in on the navy eyes of the notably grouchy, middle-aged man in front of her.

"Your training is just as important as any one of the previous Robins' training. However-" A pause as something fairly large clattered down the stairs, followed by groans from one of Bruce's sons. "However, the cave would be too crowded with all of us trying to train in it, and I just do not have the time to properly work with all of you. So I've asked Barbara to step in for now until everything has... Settled down a bit. She'll set up a suitable training area and work with you all individually in the meantime."

Stephanie snorted a bit. Getting passed off again. It's not like she'd been working herself sick since before Duke had even thought of becoming a vigilante just to get the chance to work alongside the Bat. Not that voicing that opinion would do her any good, she knew. Harper and Cass didn't seem to mind though. Or at least they weren't particularly audible about it. Cass would probably be excited to be in a less noisy environment, actually. Harper seemed glad to just be included at this point though. Not that Stephanie blamed her for that.

Seemingly content at their reactions (or lack thereof), Bruce gave them a curt nod and then walked off towards the stairs. No doubt to investigate the source of the earlier commotion.

"Right!" Barbara, red hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, walked up. She was basically beaming, a huge grin spread across her face. Steph momentarily questioned whether or not she had gotten gassed by the Joker recently, before accepting that Babs was just a naturally peppy person. "There's not much to be done today. I'm waiting on a call back from a few of my old contacts for our practice area. In the meantime, how about we go out and just run through our paces on patrol?"

"Yeah, sure," Harper responded, slipping her mask on quickly. Beside her, Cass nodded, hood already up and ready to go. Shrugging, Steph followed their lead, double-checking her utility belt to make sure she was stocked up on smoke pellets. Last week she'd almost gotten herself a broken knee because she'd run out and hadn't noticed. Not this time though, no siree.

Babs smiled extra hard at them again, then led the little group over to the dimly lit parking area. Several incarnations of the Batmobile were lined up neatly, their smooth black finishes sucking in what little light there was. Behind them, a veritable army of motorcycles and other smaller vehicles were parked. Half a dozen ATVs, and what Harper was always swearing was a bat-golf cart. Steph didn't actually think that it was a golf cart, but honestly she wouldn't put it past Bruce to find some use for one if he ever did own one. Not that those vehicles were important at the moment. They were there for their cycles. Each one custom painted (Stephanie had originally questioned why until she accidentally borrowed Jason's and it turns out that that boy made several... modifications to his cycle that may have resulted in Steph landing in Gotham Bay), standing at the ready. Barbara had already started hers - a deep black affair, with purple detailing - and was looking at the other girls expectantly. Shrugging a bit again, Stephanie half-skipped over to her cycle, which was straight up, unadulterated, VIOLENTLY purple.

Helmet on, engine quietly vibrating. Waiting.

Then Babs shot between two of the Batmobiles and towards the cave's exit. Steph popped a wheelie and raced after her, with Harper and Cass hot on her heels. Patrol was one thing that nothing could mess up (not even getting sidelined by Batman for the umpteenth time).

Static through the comlink in her helmet, then, "Alright guys, I figured we'd take the hard route through the city. We'll hit up Penguin's club during the busy hour, check in with Selena on those missing kids' cases. Then stop by along the old carnival, the GCPD, and then hit Crime Alley for primetime." Babs sounded like she was listing resort options for a weekend getaway. "You guys feel free to do you, however that goes. I'll be operating as back up tonight. We clear?"

"Clear," the unison response came, just as the four girls hit the turn off from the bayside road into Gotham City proper.

There were few things that Stephanie liked better than Gotham City at night. Waffles and Netflix, maybe, but otherwise? Nah. Out on the brighter streets, like the one they were coasting over now, hundreds of random people were moving, headed this way and that. The lights shone down on the asphalt like a neon rainbow. Traffic snaked through the city like a giant caterpillar, cars honking at each other and people shouting from their windows. Admittedly, the teen noted, she'd probably find it a lot less endearing if she were in one of those cars, but as it was she could slip between the cracks like water through a pipe. Alongside her, Harper and Cass were zipping through the traffic as well, making it look like a well-rehearsed dance. Barbara seemed to be ignoring all three of them, her head tilted slightly to one side, like she wasn't even watching the road, but instead looking at everything around her. If Stephanie had to guess, she'd say that Babs was probably trying to figure out who was about to get robbed and how, but maybe the red-head liked the city as much as she did. Who knew?

They were coming up on the first point of their planned patrol route. Penguin's club, The Iceberg Lounge. Steph had been once, and honestly, the decor was a bit of a let-down. She'd thought Penguin would be a bit more fashion-forward, given his humongous ego, but it was all fairly in line with what had been popular maybe thirty years ago. Then again, few people were actually around for the decor, and the penguin parade (which was actually kind of cool, but Stephanie wasn't about to admit that on pain of death by knock-knock jokes). Oswald had made himself a name in the arms dealing world with a less-than-legal secret menu, not to mention the trade in stolen goods he reportedly ran out of the back office. Regardless, he was clearly not focusing his efforts on improving the quality of the sushi served.

Barbara raised her left arm, before turning into an alley about a block out from their targeted destination. Following her, the other girls parked their cycles behind an overflowing dumpster, popped off their helmets, and took a moment to shake out the helmet-hair. Barbara was leaning against one of the brick walls of the buildings that framed the alleyway. Her face was completely unreadable under her cowl. For a moment, the three younger girls just stood waiting for her to give them a signal. Lay out a plan. Something.

"Oh, right, duh. You're back up tonight. Hello," Harper smacked her forehead lightly and turned to look at Steph and Cass instead. "How we wanna run this guys? I'm thinking Ste-Spoiler, sorry, goes in and chats up Penguin. Orphan can take a look at what's running in the upper floors for weapons right now, and I'll hit low on the back office for... Liberated goods. Yeah?"

Nods from Spoiler and Orphan confirmed the plan. Stephanie wasn't about to try and take the lead so soon after almost getting Tim blown up, and Cass seemed happy to just follow the leader.

Cass pulled a grappel-gun out of her belt, and shot the hook towards the roof of the building Barbara was still nonchalantly leaning against. A click. A solid thunk. Then the line tightened and with a faint hissing sound from the gun, Cass zipped up to the rooftop.

Harper nodded again at Stephanie, then the two headed out of the alley, breaking into an easy jog along the sidewalk.

Once they reached the edge of the club, Harper broke off, scooting her way through the narrow gap between The Iceberg and the adjoining building. Stephanie stopped for a moment, looking first at the main entrance, then at the crack that Harper slithered through. Batman would probably go through there, burst through the side room in a cloud of smoke, and carry Penguin up to the nearest rooftop (which would conveniently be The Iceberg's own rooftop, whaddah you know) but the blonde girl was pretty sure that she couldn't quite pull off that much of a drama queen performance. So, main doors it was.

She walked up confidently, eskrima sticks clutched in her hands, which she tucked into the folds of her deep purple cloak. The bouncer took one look at her before shaking his head and waving her in. Clearly Penguin wasn't paying this guy enough to care tonight. She heard several groans of disbelief from behind her, and shrugged it off. So what if she was VIP material and they weren't? Get a life, people.

The inside of the club was almost exactly the way she remembered it. Small, circular tables were arranged around the center of the room, where railings separated guests from the towering mountain of ice, on which sat several grumpy-looking polar birds. Subtle was not in Penguin's vocabulary. Along the far wall, doors leading into and out of the kitchen were swinging open and shut almost rhythmically as waitstaff attended to the various patrons of the lounge. Several other doors also lined the wall, leading upstairs, downstairs, and probably into Penguin's back office. Stephanie had never actually bothered to look at the blueprints of the place that were stored on the batcave's computer. She actually had a life, after all.

Along the left-hand wall was a long bar, situated underneath what Cobblepot no doubt thought was a stylish balcony. It probably would be stylish too, if it weren't shaped like a stylized fish tail - its center tucked in, and the two sides radiating out along the walls. Cobblepot himself was seated at the near end of the bar, his short legs doing their best not to dangle from the edge of the chair as he held a mostly-empty martini glass in one hand, and the hand of one of his long-suffering waitresses in the other. He was wearing a suit which on a gentleman might be considered dashing, but which on him only seemed to exude washed-upness. It was a black pinstriped affair, with a lilac vest, and a lily-white shirt underneath. A slightly crooked, pinstriped bowtie completed the outfit.

Having thoroughly run through the room in her mind, the young vigilante did her best to square her shoulders (have you tried doing that while wearing a cape? Not as easy as Bats makes it look), and strode over to Penguin.

"Excuse me. Your boss and I have some business to attend to," Stephanie said, her voice slightly muffled beneath her mask.

The waitress stared at her. Cobblepot also stared at her. Stephanie likely would have stared at herself, had she been physically able to, but since she couldn't she settled for staring back at the two in silence.

Finally, Cobblepot chuckled a bit, and set down his martini glass. "Are you one of those crazy Robin wannabes? Why'd the bouncer even let you in, kid?"

Stephanie decided that this was one of those questions which didn't actually deserve a response, so she opted to continue staring at Oswald instead. After another long moment, this seemed to get to him a bit, and he ran a fat, sweaty finger under his too-tight, too-white collar. "Eh?" He queried.

"Yeah I don't know if you pay enough attention these days or not - seems you're quite busy harassing your waitstaff - but I'm actually one of the Bats. So, I'll say it nicely one more time: we're gonna have a talk, bird man." Stephanie tried making her voice sound as intimidating as possible. She wasn't entirely sure it worked; she thought she sounded more like Tim when he accidentally inhaled helium while trying to prank Damian, but oh well. Clearly something worked, because the portly little man dropped his waitress' hand and glared at the purple-clad girl, all trace of ill-willed humor gone.

"Is that so? Well, unless Batman has some proof this time, I ain't gotta talk to nobody!" His hands were shaking a bit. Man had glass for nerves, it seemed. That didn't stop one from sliding down towards an umbrella he had stashed beneath the countertop though. Stephanie had to stop him herself, with a quick tap from an eskrima stick. Out from under her cape like a flash, it contacted his knuckles with an audible clack, then disappeared into the cape's folds again.

"Try that with me again and I can guarantee you'll be wishing I was Batman by the time I'm through." Or, you know, she'll be wishing she was Batman by the time she's through. Semantics.

By now the waitress seemed to have figured out that this situation was above her paygrade, by about a mile, and started backing away towards the safety of the kitchen doors. Stephanie let her go. No harm in a waitress fleeing, after all.

"Er... Right. Well, whaddah you wanna know anyway, kid?" Penguin was looking somewhat perturbed by the way things were going. Just the way she wanted him. Unfortunately, Babs hadn't actually given her any agenda for what info they were after.

She decided that improv was the greatest art never taught. "What do you know about the East Gotham kidnappings? I want names, motives, anything you have on it."

A loud 'thuck' stopped Stephanie from catching anything useful the Penguin might have said.

There was blood in her mouth. That didn't belong there.

Also, the carpeting in the lounge had clearly not been cleaned in a couple of months. With a slight groan, Stephanie rolled over, and looked up at the Penguin, who was wearing a very self-satisfied grin.

In retrospect, she probably should've stopped that waitress.

Of course, how was she supposed to know that Penguin had staffed his club with psychotic ladies who stored guns in their boots? Now no less than five of them... Four? Counting was proving somewhat difficult at the moment... Were pointing hand guns at her.

"Now then girlie, you're gonna get up nice and easy and let these lovely ladies take you up to the backroom. In handcuffs," the Penguin said, seeming to barely contain his chuckles.

"Handcuffs aren't my kink," Steph muttered, before her legs shot up into the face of the first waitress, a satisfying 'click' echoing through the lounge as Steph's heels made contact with the woman's chin.

Up to a crouch. The other three waitresses fired a couple of shots. Bullets at close range _hurt_ even through kevlar. Fist to the diaphragm of waitress left. Twisting, left leg out. A solid kick to right waitress' legs, knocking them out from under her. Final waitress had backed off, took another shot at her. Up on her feet, Steph ran at her, eskrima sticks out. A quick lovetap to her knees, and another to her temple, and she was out. The Penguin, however, was also out. He'd disappeared without a trace in the commotion.

"Right. Well, that was as helpful as dieting..." Stephanie put her eskrima sticks back in their proper place, the sleeves in her boots, then walked out of the club, nodding cordially to the patrons, most of whom looked mildly horrified.

Back in the alley, the others were already waiting. Harper was nursing her right arm somewhat gingerly, while Cass attended to Harper's split lip. Cass, for her part, seemed to be covered in a fine layer of soot. Or gun powder. Frankly, Steph didn't really feel like asking. Batgirl, in the meantime, looked somewhat amused.

"How'd things go?" Harper asked, wincing a bit as Cassie's fingers slipped and poked at the cut.

"Oh, you know. Almost got killed by angry waitresses. Learned nothing from Penguin though. You?"

"Got into a fight with a cook, and almost got added to the sushi."

Cass just shrugged a bit, stepping back from Harper with a small sigh.

"I have been enjoying Gotham's lesser talked about architecture," Barbara chimed in finally, pushing herself off from against the wall - Stephanie was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since they left her there - and joining them. "You guys..." she paused to take in the three of them in all their somewhat bruised glory, "Have potential."


	2. Bluebird, Purple Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluebird goes on patrol. Huntress keeps an eye on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if switching POVs in fics is still a thing, but I'm doing it anyway.

Maybe it was just the blue-haired girl's imagination, but the two women who had just sat down across from her and Cass didn't look too thrilled to be invited to coffee. The first one, black-haired, blue-eyed, and wearing combat boots that Harper almost envied her for, pulled out the chair farthest from everybody else assembled. She took a swig of her coffee and then plunked the cup down before dropping into her seat with a barely contained groan as she surveyed the three girls. The second one, blonde-haired, and holding a toddler, looked like she needed at least ten hours of sleep more than what she had. She scooted a chair out with one foot and sat down a bit more gracefully than her companion, coffee cup set down out of reach of her son. Neither one of them spoke.

Harper shifted a bit in her seat, considering the novel idea that Batman had not - as she had previously thought - cornered the market on making things way more tense than they had to be. Biting her lip, she slid a hand under the table, brushing against Cass's for a moment. She had to try and relax a bit, or she'd bust out of her seat before anybody actually said anything worth hearing. The blue-haired girl looked up at Barbara, searching for a cue.

Barbara didn't seem to notice. She was on her laptop, coffee in one hand while her other hand flashed across the keyboard, typing faster than Harper could even with both hands. She paused, glanced up, and then chugged her coffee, before shutting her laptop. "Hey there Helena, Dinah. Glad you could join us. This here's Harper, Cass, and Stephanie, the girls I was telling you about," she said, motioning to each girl in turn. Harper felt a bit like she should wave or something, but instead she just tilted her head a bit and then picked up her coffee and took a really long drink in order to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

"I mean, I figured that much out on my own, Babs," the black-haired one, Helena said, rolling her eyes a bit, "what I haven't heard is what exactly you actually want us to be doing. Game plan, details, you know? The important stuff."

Babs looked a bit annoyed, but she responded like she was shooting the breeze with an old roomie, "Fair enough. Sorry about that, didn't want to give too much away over the phone. There's been a few recent cases of someone listening in on our secured lines and I haven't sorted that out yet. Basic rundown is Bruce doesn't have enough room or time to work with these three as much as he wants to, so I'm picking up the slack till things chill out a bit. I figured that you guys could help me out a bit, just when you're free, and give them more variety. Plan is to work out of the old hq starting next week, training sessions weekends and where we can fit them in, patrol at least three nights a week. All of North Gotham is up, the boys are going to steer clear so they can get proper solo experience." Barbara finished, and leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms.

Dinah's kid was squirming, and the older woman shifted him to her other side, pulling out a coloring book and crayons from her bag as she did so. Once she was satisfied that he was safely occupied on the chair next to her, she focused on the others at the table. "Sounds like it could be fun. Ollie owes me some downtime, and it'd be good for Conner to spend more time with him anyhow."

Helena snorted a bit, "Doesn't sound like downtime to me."

Barbara started examining the nails on her right hand.

"Fine, fine. But look," Helena continued, gesturing at the three younger vigilantes, "don't expect me to play nice with you just because Babs has decided to put up with you. If you fuck up, it's on you."

Harper could practically feel the eye roll that Stephanie must've just directed at Helena. As if the three of them didn't know perfectly well how high the stakes were when it came to their line of work. Cass nodded, a bit curtly Harper thought. As for Harper herself, she didn't feel like that statement actually deserved a proper response. Instead she finished off her coffee, and threw the cup into the trashcan - located conveniently halfway across the room. It teetered on the edge for a moment, then clattered in.

"Awesome," Babs piped, "Glad we've got that settled. If you two want to see what you're getting into, I know Harper, you said you were planning on patrolling lower Gotham, along the east end tonight, so you guys could tag along. Steph, you said you weren't out till Wednesday though? Eh, I'll email you guys patrol schedules if you want them I guess."

Ah yes, just what Harper always wanted. Back-seat patrollers.

______________________________

Lower Gotham smelled roughly like what you might find in a compost heap, crossed with dead fish and probably some dead people, heated to 90 degrees and left to stew for a week. If she weren't used to the smell already, Harper was pretty sure that she'd lose her supper. Huntress looked like she already had lost her supper.

Harper chose to ignore this, and with barely a nod to the older detective, she pulled out her grappel gun and swung up to the nearest rooftop.

Bluebird began a slow sweep of the area, treating her starting point as the center of a circle, and working her way out. Huntress was keeping her distance, always on the rooftop directly beside Bluebird's own. The blue-haired girl was thankful for that; it made her presence easier to ignore as the younger girl fell into the familiar rhythm of patrol.

A startled yelp from down below caught Bluebird, and she dropped down to the top of a fire escape to get a better look at the scene unfolding in the street beneath her. Three teens, two fairly well-built and one wiry-looking dude, had cornered two younger boys. One of the bulkier teens - brown-haired, wearing a beat up jacket a couple sizes too big for even him - had grabbed what looked to be a dog - its leash pulled tight while the younger boy tried to pull his dog back to him - roughly by the neck. The other two teens had grabbed hold of the boy's friend, preventing him from helping. Although, to be fair to him, he seemed to be putting up a decent fight despite his long odds.

"You think your dog's so special? Going everywhere with you? Betcha it'd look really good hung up outside the school now!"

Bluebird had heard enough. She clipped a rappel line to her belt, then latched the other to the railing of the fire escape. With a sharp hiss, she slid down to the ground, and landed with a soft thud just outside the group of boys.

"You know, I'd hate to break your knuckles over a dog," she said, grinning a bit to show that no, in fact she would be absolutely delighted to do just that. The leader of the three boys, still holding the dog, turned a bit, taking in the newcomer. Apparently he decided that she wasn't threatening enough to warrant his attention though. He turned back to the small boy, tugging on the dog's throat again.

"Right," Bluebird muttered, pulling out one of her metal batons. "Guess you don't care about your knuckles, nimrod."

Before the teen knew what was going on, Bluebird rammed the baton into the crook of his elbow and wrenched it out, breaking his hold on the dog.

The dog wasted no time, scampering back to her concerned owner. That left macho man number one all to Bluebird. She was just fine with that arrangement.

The boy swung towards Bluebird's face, but the girl easily side-stepped and brought her leg up to collide solidly with his stomach, sending him reeling back.

His buddies let go of their victim, turning to face the new threat. Bluebird smirked, cracking her knuckles a bit in anticipation. Skinny dude tried making a grab at her hair. Bad move. He caught a handful of her blue mohawk, before her hand pried his fingers loose. Ducking under his arm, she twisted it back. He dropped onto the asphalt with a squeak of pain. Bluebird let go.

The second teen seemed a bit more wary of her. He'd grabbed a trash can lid, and was holding it up in front of him like a shield. The brown-haired boy had also recovered, and was trying to flank her, muttering curses under his breath as he did. Bluebird waited, her weight resting easily on the balls of her feet, knees bent. Any second.

There! Charging in with his makeshift shield, while his buddy tried grabbing at Bluebird's arm. Bluebird jumped. Her foot slammed into the shield and she pushed off of it, spinning neatly in the air. Her baton swung out, clipping the brown-haired teen across the face, dropping him like a rock.

A clatter came from behind, and Bluebird turned to see the final boy booking it down the street, the trash can lid abandoned.

The two younger boys were still standing to one side, the dog in front of them both. They were staring at her with something like respect in their eyes.

"You both okay?" Harper said, stepping over to them.

"Uh, yeah, yeah we're good. Sadie's good too, just a bit shook up," the blond-haired boy - the one with the dog - said, gesturing as he spoke, "thanks for that."

Harper shrugged off the thanks, her eyes going over the boys once more just in case the two had missed a cut or scrape in the excitement. All good. "You two better get inside. Do you live far from here?"

"Nah, only down the block a bit. We'll be fine!" The two grinned at her, then moved past her, heading down the street hand-in-hand. Guess they were pretty used to this sort of thing, if that's all they had to say after it.

Harper watched them, making sure they got inside one of the apartment buildings that lined the block, before she slipped out her grappel gun and zipped back up to the rooftops.

Huntress was waiting for her, purple cape seeming to hang off of her like a shroud. She looked a bit pensive, from the part of her face Harper could actually see beneath the mask.

"Got a problem?" Bluebird said, crossing her arms.

"You handled that well."

"School bullies aren't anything new. Plenty of people like that used to try and pick on Cullen," Bluebird shrugged, heading to the edge of the rooftop. No point in hanging around when there was more patrolling to do. After all, the night was still young.

Huntress reached out, grabbing her shoulder gently. "Cullen?"

Bluebird paused, fiddling a bit with her grappel gun so she didn't have to look at the purple-clad woman's face. "Yeah, younger brother. Don't really have any parents around to help deal with shit at school, so we had to learn to watch out for each other's all." She didn't offer any other information, but Huntress seemed satisfied. At least, she released her grip on Bluebird's shoulder. Harper took it as her cue to step off the roof, shooting out a line from her gun and swinging forward on it as she went.


End file.
